


the hours that passed

by Ava_Z



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Angry John Watson, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Bottom Sherlock Holmes, Cuddling & Snuggling, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Insecure Sherlock, Love Confessions, M/M, Makeup Sex, Masturbation, Sherlock Is A Bit Not Good, Top John Watson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-06
Updated: 2017-02-06
Packaged: 2018-09-22 11:37:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 21,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9606068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ava_Z/pseuds/Ava_Z
Summary: (Smutty version of) John is mad at Sherlock and he decides to sleep on the sofa but then he realizes Sherlock can't process that the way John expected.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote a fanfic a while back and I thought I didn't do it justice, so I rewrote it and it's no longer short nor very similar to the original story so there you go.  
> Writing in a foreign language can be really stressful, regardless feedbacks and constructive criticism would be tremendously appreciated.  
> Hope i'm getting better and enjoy!

 

**The hours that passed**

John pulled the blanket a little bit closer to his face; it was still a bit cold.

  
Now that some time had passed and his anger had cooled off a bit he had realized that he should have taken another blanket with him when he was leaving the bedroom.

  
Just then he realized how cold and uncomfortable the sofa was and there was not enough room for him to get comfortable either.

  
He and Sherlock slept together on that bloody sofa a hundred times; two grown men; and Sherlock was pretty big too. But it was always so nice and comfy.

  
John pursed his lips. _Yeah, I know it was because that arsehole was on it too._

He replied to his mind.

  
Sherlock did make everything better. And this was how different sleeping on the sofa without him felt.

  
But he was an arsehole; a giant idiot that he fell in love with; also the brilliant genius.  
Now almost an hour had passed and he still couldn’t sleep.

  
John's room was a mess now. Sherlock used to put some of his science stuff in there along with anything he couldn't find a place for after John moved to his room and now he couldn’t even find a space on his bed to sleep on.

  
He shifted his body on the sofa. His white t-shirt so soft and cozy on him; he looked extra cute in it.

  
He had changed into it because he was so impatient to change and just get into bed as he got home and this was the first thing that his hands grabbed when he was looking for something comfortable to wear.

  
He didn’t wear that t-shirt a lot; he wasn’t a very t-shirt kind of guy. He was more of a long-sleeve-shirt kind of guy. He wasn’t very much used to showing his skin.

  
He suddenly remembered how Sherlock was staring at his t-shirt kind of strangely when he was standing in front of him, yelling at the top of his lungs. but he wasn’t exactly in a state to pay attention to the way Sherlock was staring at it; actually for all he knew he could be far into his mind palace at that moment. Who knew?

  
They had been through so much in the years that they knew each other. It took him a while to finally realize he was in love with Sherlock and even longer to make Sherlock realize it too.

  
How many days had passed with him watching Sherlock going about his day, being his adorable brilliant idiot self and wishing he was his?

  
How many nights he had tossed and turned in his bed, trying so hard not to think about Sherlock? Then he would finally give up and go to sit by Sherlock’s bedroom door with a blanket, listening to his breathing, his cute light snorts and his little movements in the bed and just his existence.

  
And the nights that Sherlock wasn’t asleep which happened more often, he would get up with his cute bed hair and his more than usual puffy eyes, his blanket around him and sat on the table in front of Sherlock who was mostly doing some experiment and just looked at him with a frustrated expression. Like saying: _Why the hell are you keeping me from sleep? And Why the fuck can’t I just have you in my bed right now?_

  
And not having a clue, Sherlock would either start rambling about what he was doing or just didn’t say a word concentrating on his work. Either way all John would do was staring at his lips the whole time until he fell asleep with his head on the table and Sherlock would call him some time later to tell him to go to bed.

  
And John was half wishing Sherlock wouldn’t deduce why he was having trouble sleeping and half hopeful he would.

  
But then after a while when Sherlock told John that he had to do something about his sleeping habits since him falling asleep in front of him was distracting Sherlock while he was working.

Sherlock thought his insomnia was because he worried so much about rent and bills and life in general and all those dull stuff.

  
But John couldn’t stop, he couldn’t really help it. Three months of discovering his love for Sherlock and he realized he was getting depressed and it was scaring the shit out of him.

And it just kept getting worse. Like sometimes that Sherlock just got out of the shower and he smelled extra amazing; or when he had just got up with nothing on but that stupid sheet around him, or the times that he had been punched or bitten up and he came home to John with a face full of bruises and scratches and casually said:

'Can the doctor see me?’

  
He did hate it when Sherlock was injured but the fact that it allowed him to take care of Sherlock and it gave him an excuse to touch him more and caress his face or stroke his curls just felt amazing.

  
He was the one who insisted he wasn’t gay but he didn’t know why did he try to imagine Sherlock’s cock every time he was wearing his tight trousers, which was almost always.

  
Why did that man always wore tight clothes? Did he not own a single fucking shirt that didn’t make John want to jump at him and bite the fucking thing off of him?

  
He imagined touching those abs and muscles. he fantasized about running his hands on his chest, over that sexy shirt of his and then tear it apart to reveal that silvery skin.

Could he just do that once and then blame it on being drunk or something? Or he could say it was for an experiment like Sherlock did for many things? and Sherlock would actually like it. Anything that was related to an experiment was worth trying according to Sherlock. Would he get away with it?

  
Then he would get mad at himself for hoping that would work. Sherlock didn’t seem to have any interest in John and no matter how he tried he was never able to get himself to talk to him about it.

  
_While I’m flattered by your interest I should say that I consider myself married to my work._

  
He did say that. Sherlock had said that and nothing happened to show that he changed his mind about that.

  
John couldn’t even date women now. Every attempt he made to start dating again turned out to be a disaster. He was not interested in the talking and the getting-to-know-each- other part. He just needed someone to distract him. He just needed the physical stuff to get his mind off of Sherlock.  
But every time he was kissing a woman or making out he would whisper Sherlock’s name and thus the date was over.

  
He even tried a gay club once however the minute he was actually presented by a meaningful eye contact from a decent looking guy, he just ran as fast as he could. Apparently he was not really gay. Or maybe just gay for Sherlock Holmes; if that made any sense.

  
And Sherlock was so clueless that he just made it worse sometimes. He would go near John to stand next to him, stare at him funny, for a long time and when John would feel all his insides melting, he would snap and yell.

‘What Sherlock?’ 

  
And Sherlock would just narrow his eyes for a bit and then look away and leave like it wasn’t strange at all that he was standing right next to his flatmate and staring at him for a whole minute without even blinking.

  
Or when he was sitting on the sofa reading, he would suddenly put the book down, get up, stand next to John who was sitting behind the table typing or something, bend over, smell his hair and then stand up, stare at John's confused frightened face and after a while without saying anything go back and continue with reading his book.

  
John would be screaming inside his head but he’d just look away and never bring it up again.

  
Those were the times that John was almost convinced that Sherlock was actually an alien and he was somehow gathering data about apparently-bi-or-just-desperately-in-love-with-their-flatmate human beings. Although he would probably have been absolutely clueless that that was what he was gathering data about.

 

  
But Sherlock was so warm and kind and adorable when he forgot to be an arsehole. He cared about John’s needs. He knew everything he liked. It was like a list he had made and every once in a while he just showed up with a special kind of toffee John liked to eat with his tea or a pocket of milk just to make him happy, and he did. It would really cheer him up when Sherlock was being so cutely kind not for experimental purposes or without being an arsehole about it.

  
He still did all those irritating things he always did. Leave him behind in crime scenes, put John in an awkward position by being unnecessarily rude to people, provoking criminals trying to show off and so on.

  
It got more difficult when John found out about his interest in him because he realized every time Sherlock was being a jerk he just wanted to shove something down his throat to make him shut up and the thing he wanted to shove down his throat couldn’t be constituted as something friends did, and that made him feel so guilty.

  
He knew sex with Sherlock must have had been amazing and sometimes he wondered how it would have made up for how much he drove him crazy all the time. Then there was times that he thought maybe it would actually be a disaster. With Sherlock's lack of experience and probably the fact that he was unable to feel or show any romantic sense and John's uncertainties about the whole thing, it did seem a bit doomed from the beginning.

  
John started convincing himself that it was never going to happen and he just has to accept that and one of the ways to cope with his sexual interest for Sherlock was starting to watch gay porn and then in the middle of a couple's steamy sex, he would start imagining Sherlock and himself like that and before he knew it he was masturbating to the gay porn and sometimes it just made him feel awful afterwards, because of a hundred reasons and above all the fact that there was only a space of meters between him and Sherlock’s bedroom and yet all he could do was to fantasize about him and it hurt so much that he would sometimes start crying after his completion or just feel really grumpy and sad.

  
He had many crying masturbations now and he kept feeling worse after each orgasm. He also had many staring sadly at an unknown dot which led him to believe that he was losing his mind and he might actually have to move out.

  
He was never that much into porn and nor did he like watching gay ones now. They always made it look impersonal and cheap however every sexual scenario he had fantasized with Sherlock was very personal, with eyes locked on each other and incredibly romantic.

  
It was a bit surprising how Sherlock didn’t notice this much change in his behavior but he seemed distracted for some reason and John was trying to avoid talking to him as much as he could.

Because there were only two possibilities, he would either get aroused when Sherlock stared at him while talking to him (because that was something he did a lot now) or Sherlock would be a giant arse and they would fight and he would get even more aroused. So he decided to just leave it alone.

…………………..

  
One morning he woke up particularly sad and depressed. As he woke up he realized that he had a massive erection and then remembered he had a sexual dream about Sherlock which felt so real.

  
He could almost feel him close and even on his lips and as the memory and the sensation came back to him, the blood rushed to that sensitive part of him and his cock started aching.

  
He cried again.

  
He decided right there and then that he was either going to tell Sherlock how he felt about him that day or tell him that he wants to move out.

  
He was sure after he told him about his feelings Sherlock would want him out or he would tell him that they should have some boundaries which apart from breaking his heart it would be so weird and wrong and he was sure it would affect their work, their friendship, everything. So he would eventually have to move out anyways.

  
He took care of his erection with a cold shower and made tea. He had prepared his words with care to tell Sherlock when he woke up.

  
However he didn’t know that Sherlock had decided to be the biggest arsehole that day. Just as he set his eyes on John he started bickering about everything he could.

  
He started from complaining about how John didn’t know how to make a proper cup of tea to nagging him about the way he breaths loudly and then why he left his underwear in the bathroom, which he spent a particular time going on and on about, even though John explained that he had never done that before and he had forgotten to take it out. He would not listen and went on to say John is the worst roommate anyone could ever have and it just drove John to the wall with anger.

  
Then John said.

"then I’ll move out today so that you can find a better roommate," and Sherlock said. "anyone can be a better roommate than you!" And then John went up to his room and got dressed and stormed out to get away from him and also look for a new flatmate.

  
Because he was so bloody done now.

  
So there it was. Turned out he didn’t need to tell Sherlock about his feelings to have to move out.

He didn’t really know what drove Sherlock to be as bitter as he was then,  but he was a bit glad that at least he didn’t have to suffer like that anymore.

  
Not living with Sherlock seemed painfully difficult but living with him and wanting him that much was freaking unbearable.

  
Of course he called Mike and asked him if he knew any other sociopathic junkie alien who is looking for a flatmate.

  
Who was he kidding? He could never find another significant arse like Sherlock who would want to live with him ever again. Even if he would, they wouldn’t be Sherlock. No one could be Sherlock.

  
He thought he would plan a night out with mike and they would go out for drinks and then spend the night in Mike's flat.

He decided Mike would be a better option now. He could skip telling him about the whole thing but Greg, it was unlikely that he could hide this from him and he wasn’t up for talking about it yet.

However Mike had a family thing and then it turned out Greg had to work as well and he was actually so busy that he hung up before John could ask if he could stay at his place for the night.

  
It was almost impossible for him to consider going back that night but he had no choice, he had been out all day and he had no where to go. He killed time as much as he could staying at a café until midnight and then went back home.

  
Sherlock seemed to be asleep or outside for which he thanked God. He got to his room as fast he could and got out of his clothes, wearing only his white t-shirt and his pants and went right to bed.

  
He woke up after what seemed like ten minutes of sleep to something moving next to him.

  
He jumped out of his skin when he saw Sherlock lying next to him on his front, leaning on his elbows watching him.  
He didn’t look very good. He looked worried or scared or something John couldn’t really place.

  
He started panting and said. ‘What…what the hell Sherlock? What are you doing in my bed?’

  
He was getting aroused only by seeing him in his bed and he was sure if it got any more noticeable he will not be able to hide it from him.

  
Sherlock looked like he had been there for a while, waiting for John to get up and he looked like he was kind of struggling to say something.  
John wasn’t sure he wanted to cry or just hit him. There was the risk of dying from a massive erection at that moment; he thought to himself.

  
Sherlock didn’t seem to notice how inappropriate he was being at that moment. He didn't have much sense of privacy but he also seemed to not notice how strange this was. After seconds he finally said looking into John's eyes.

‘John,…I’m sorry for what…I said today..I.. didn’t mean any of that,'

  
John said while throwing a gaze at his erection every once in a while to make sure if it wasn’t noticeable over the not very his sheets.

  
‘Yeah, fine. It’s ok. Just please can you get out of my bed? It’s really not...'

  
Sherlock cut him off. He seemed distracted as he stole his gaze from John and looked down at his fingers.

  
‘John I have to tell you something. Something I did which I’m a bit ashamed of,'

  
John was clenching his fingers at the sheets so hard. He was not even aware he could actually break his fingers if he pressed any harder and he was biting his lips to stop himself from shouting and actually biting the skin and flesh off of Sherlock's smooth neck.

  
Everything he felt about Sherlock seemed ten times heightened now. Even his smooth Sherlocky smell, which was a mixture of the fancy products he used, his shampoo, his soup that somehow made him smell like a baby and his own amazing scent was arousing him. He felt so desperate to touch him.

  
He tried to ask again but he was breathless and Sherlock seemed to be too God damn caught up in whatever the hell he was saying that he didn't seem to notice.

  
John was actually considering jumping at him and biting his lips and licking and sucking his whole face and neck and was ready to face the consequences, but Sherlock quickly went on with a lower deeper voice which somehow suggested a bit of an anxiety. Thank God.

'I understand if you would hate me for this but I have to tell you. I came to your room last night and I got into your bed and touched your face with my hand and then I just couldn't stop myself, I had to know, I had to find out how did it,’

  
Sherlock paused and he stuttered as he went on, not looking away from his fingers.

  
‘Taste..lips.. your lips… and then I pressed my…lips on,’

  
He took a trembling breath and continued.  
‘…yours and...and it felt…'

  
Sherlock didn’t seem to be able to find the right adjective. He didn’t finish the sentence after all.

  
He was now mumbling and John was on the verge of losing his mind.

He was staring at Sherlock with an open mouth, panting.

  
Sherlock said almost miserably.

  
'I'm so sorry that I lost control like that but the thing is I...want to,’

  
He paused, stuttering again while tears came to his eyes. ‘To... do it… again. And I know that you probably hate me for that and now you definitely want to move out, but all I’m asking for is…is,’

  
Sherlock rested his head in his hands trying to gain some strength and put his emotions into words with a now shaky voice.

  
‘I know it’s not your thing and I know I am far from your type but can you consider…I mean can I …can I do that…kiss...thing… like kiss you one more time? Just...just have one kiss?,’

  
He said the word _kiss_ with such stress and effort but not as if it was not understandable to him but like he was asking for something that felt so important now, so unreachable and amazing. He nervously went on. ‘Like a real one, when you're awake and you can... I mean,’

  
Sherlock was struggling so hard and he didn’t seem to be able to stop either. He went on with a shaky voice which was actually because he was almost crying now.

  
‘Would you consider it? because I don't know what the hell is this but it's been driving me nuts and my mind can't actually function anymore and I feel like it's going to explode if I don't…’

  
He was so worried about what John was thinking, he couldn’t really finish his sentences anymore. As if he was worried at any minute John would start yelling at him or something and he won’t be able to say everything that he needed to say.

  
‘And also can you consider forgetting it ever happened and just not move out? Because I just need you in my life and I can’t… ok maybe you have a right to not speak to me anymore but… you have to stay… I just don’t think I can…I mean I really need you but I also need to kiss you at least one more time and…'

  
Sherlock paused as he only then heard John’s ragged breathing. He looked up to see John’s face, with a dreadful look on his own as he saw how tense and somehow freaked out John looked.

  
John felt like he had lost the ability to talk. His chest was actually moving dangerously up and down.

  
Staring miserably at John’s lips Sherlock licked his and trying so hard not to close the distance and feel them again he said apologetically which was the most sincere he had ever sounded.

  
'John I never meant to feel this way about you, please don’t hate me for…'

  
John managed to let a very innocent noise of disbelief out, cutting Sherlock off, looking as if he was about to cry, looking like he had just witnessed a miracle.

He slowly leaned in, raising his hand so very gently and tenderly towards Sherlock’s face who looked absolutely confused and even worried with the cutest face.

Tears were sparkling in his ocean-colored eyes that were fixed on John’s.

  
Finally leaning on his left elbow, his soft trembling wishful right hand reached Sherlock’s cheek after what felt like hours and touched the smooth skin of the startled detective’s face.

  
He cupped Sherlock's cheek very softly like he was worried he would break it, then gently pulled him closer.

  
Keeping his intense gaze at Sherlock’s wet and confused eyes, he pulled him close until their noses were touching and they were both staring at each other’s lips.

John was breathing heavily into Sherlock’s mouth and Sherlock seemed to have forgotten how to breathe.

  
With his fingers that had somehow found their way to the back of Sherlock’s neck and were caressing very lightly and his lips that were lingering so very close to Sherlock’s, terrified to touch the soft pink beautiful flesh in front of them, he was trying to find the courage to believe that this was real and finally do what he fantasized about for so long.

Both of them were suffering with desire and too afraid to close the distance of millimeters and feed their wanton.

It was too unbelievable and also terrifying. And it felt too good to be true.

  
After tilting his head to sides and staring more into his lips John slowly closed the distance.

His trembling lips touched Sherlock’s very trembling ones. And with the first touch they both let a painful moan of relief in each other’s mouth.

  
It felt as if the whole world had stopped and no one made the slightest sound just for them to kiss and touch, for the first time.

  
Sherlock’s hands were clumsily reaching for John’s t-shirt and were too distracted by the kiss to find and grab it.

  
With the tongue he was sending in Sherlock’s mouth, who was now so hungrily asking for everything with his lips, John tried to discover and appreciate the texture of it.

He felt this level of pleasure was absurd. John never felt anything like this while kissing anyone else.

  
It almost felt like a sin, how sensational it felt.

  
Sherlock let out a miserable hum of desirement in John's mouth, his fingers torn between what to grab and feel and what to hold on to.

  
They parted their lips with a cute smack, both looking at each other like they had just reached the impossible.

  
John's erection went from a painful rock to a pleasant arousal.

  
After caressing his thumb on Sherlock's cheek and staring at him with so much love in his eyes, he pushed the sheets away from over himself, slowly leaned back on his pillow and with the most loving and soft look on his face he held both his hands up for Sherlock to come into his arms.

  
Sherlock stared at his open arms in disbelief; not really processing what this was and why it was happening.

All he knew was that John had opened his arms to him for some reason and that meant he was allowed to get in there.

He went so tenderly into his embrace, letting out trembling heavy breaths as he was placed in John's arms. He buried his face in his neck breathing him in, as John’s arms slowly wrapped tightly around him and his fingers went through his hair stroking and appreciating his scalp and his curls.

  
Sherlock gasped sharply as he felt the pleasure of being in there and all those wonderful simple things that John was doing and his smell and his…God how the hell had he never knew about this feeling and how the hell was he allowed to have it now?

  
Sherlock still wasn't sure if this was John letting him have what he asked for or that he could actually be interested in him.

  
He couldn’t really want Sherlock, could he?  
As if reading his mind, John whispered with the lowest most loving voice which was so adorably shaky now.

  
'I fucking wanted you, for such a long time I wanted you.'

  
Sherlock pulled back to look John in the eye, saying under his breath. 'Oh John,'

  
John followed that with a very passionate desperate kiss with which they both hummed so very happily.

Their hands were now so hungry moving and rubbing on their own everywhere on each other’s body. It felt like it was the most satisfying dream.

  
Sherlock was appreciating the amazing feeling of being in John’s arms any way he could.

His feet were rubbing so softly on John’s, getting familiar with the soft skin with his toes and fingers.

John was melting with every little touch that he was receiving all over.

  
Suddenly John realized he was rubbing his erection on Sherlock's thigh without knowing it. They had just kissed and he had no idea if Sherlock was ok with going further.

  
He parted his lips and said nervously.

  
'I'm sorry, I am so sorry Sherlock. It’s just… you being here, your voice your smell, your lips…'

  
John almost moaned and bit his lips, not being able to continue.

  
Sherlock looked down to see the erection that was completely noticeable through the fabric of his pajama bottoms.

  
John digging his fingers in Sherlock’s arm said. 'I need to.. I can just rub it on your thigh, if that’s not.. I mean if you don’t think it’s…I’m just.. I'm too close Sherlock,'

He moaned again breathless.

  
‘and fuck, you are too gorgeous.’

  
Sherlock’s eyes widened with his last sentence. It was hard for him to believe that he caused that. He was the reason for John’s massive erection.

  
Sherlock pulled his head back, enough to look into John’s eyes with the most sincere look in his own and almost stuttered. 'You, you… John, you… can… have anything you want,'

  
John's breath got heavier.

  
Sherlock very slowly raised his hand up to John’s lips and said.

  
‘I may not know what exactly I’m asking for and if that’s even what you want, but I hope you would want more than my thigh…because apparently my body wants you in any way that is considered,’

  
Sherlock paused as his fingers finally reached John’s lips and he put his thumb on the warm flesh, rubbing very gently and watching the red flesh as it slightly trembled under it.

  
John gasped and Sherlock continued.

  
‘I want you to take me in every way possible, if that’s what you want too.’

  
John moaned with the last sentence and how direct and open it was. He stuck his tongue out just a bit to lick his thumb and then suck and kiss it and at the same time moved his hand to Sherlock’s cock to feel his erection for the first time.

  
Sherlock moaned and John cursed under his breath at the touch. Then moving his lips to Sherlock’s ears he whispered mischievously.  
‘Does this mean your cock wants me too?’

  
Sherlock nodded innocently.

  
John pulled back and kissed him and then smiled against his lips. ‘Well, so does mine if it wasn’t obvious.’

  
A smile appeared and left his lips as he felt a bit nervous with what was gonna happen next.

Were they gonna have sex now? Like a full on cock-in-ass sex? Or whatever they call it now? Was John going to top?

He hoped he would because it would’ve turned into a disaster if Sherlock was to top.

Theoretically he knew everything but practically, they both would’ve ended up dead.

  
He was being dramatic again. That was of course highly unlikely. But he wished John wouldn’t just stick it into him right now.

What if he couldn’t handle it? That would’ve disappointed John and he would’ve died of embarrassment. He wished he could ask John to go slow but how could he with that hard rock between John’s legs?

  
He just had to suck it up, for John’s sake.

  
Not being able to wait a second longer, John pulled both of their pajama bottoms and pants down with hands that were so clearly shaking, in a blink of an eye. And they both moaned very loud and deep like they were in actual pain as John rubbed his cock on Sherlock's and the sensation pushed both of them into insanity.

  
With Just John's forehead resting on his, Sherlock was too caught up in the amazing pleasure of what John was doing that he even forgot to be relieved that John didn’t just put it in him without some foreplay or something.

  
He should have had given him more credit. That wasn’t the John Watson he knew anyway. He was very thoughtful and considerate.

  
After a few strokes Sherlock came hot and hard on John and with that John climaxed too while biting and sucking and kissing the shit out of Sherlock's neck.

  
Sherlock had never had his neck bitten before. It did happen once but to be fair he was a psychopathic cannibal and it wasn’t meant as a form of affection. He was hungry for some human flesh and Sherlock had made him angry.

  
He decided he loved having his neck bitten by John and he definitely would want that again.

  
They kept panting for a while, resting boneless in each other's arms.

  
Sherlock had had orgasms years ago, when he was a teenager and he had to take care of his erections every once in a while, but it was never something he would particularly enjoy.

He did feel the mild pleasure of it but it was something he just wanted to get over with. Erections and orgasms slowed him down and interrupted with the important things he could do.

  
Sherlock had seen that, sometimes in movies-unfortunate nights when he was sulking on the sofa and John was having a movie night- even back when he was in university, the fact that people got so hungry for each other's touch that they couldn't control themselves and wait a second to be together seemed awkward, embarrassing and unnecessary to Sherlock.

  
But now it was so exhilarating to feel that for the first time in his life he had become the people he didn’t understand.

He got to a point that he just needed John in a very intimate way, to a point where he was almost shaking with the desire of having John's lips on his and being as close as he could be to him.

  
He didn’t know what his current state was. Was his eyes open? Closed? Was he breathing? Did he even exist anymore?

He just knew that this must be a part of human nature that despite having a fair knowledge about, he couldn’t entirely understand and now somehow he wanted to.

  
Then he felt like he was on the verge of panicking because he realized the body that was curled up into his, the warmth and affection of it, was now the necessity of his sanity and he needed more data to know why and what had to be done about it.

  
Suddenly he felt like a hot flame started in his heart which was burning his insides.

 

He didn’t know what it was but he was sure it only happened when John was around and all he knew was he had to do something to put it out one way or another. Only he didn’t exactly know if it was something physical or one of those emotional thingies that he was experiencinga lot lately.

  
John’s head was buried in Sherlock’s neck and he was panting very hard. But then when Sherlock felt wetness on his neck he realized John’s panting had turned into crying.

  
Sherlock freaked out a bit.

  
He had just experienced orgasm caused by another person for the first time in his life and John was crying in his arms and he had a weird feeling in his stomach and he had absolutely no idea what to do with any of them.

  
Sherlock nervously pulled John’s head back and said. ‘John? Why are you..? What is..? Did I do something wrong?’

  
John chuckled and shook his head then his trembling hands went to cup Sherlock’s cheeks and opened his mouth to say something but couldn’t.

Then he held Sherlock close again and put his mouth on his neck, kissing it lightly at first and then burying his face in there again.

  
Sherlock realized it’s not exactly something bad that made John cry. It was possible that he was overwhelmed.

  
Sherlock felt it was ok that he didn’t really know why, or didn’t completely understand but he could hold John tight and rub his back and plant a kiss on his temple over and over to make him calm again.

  
Those flames were still there and he was still trying to figure something out to cool them down.

  
After a while John stopped crying and lifted his head to wipe his tears away and then smiled to Sherlock.

  
He started kissing Sherlock again and then he just blurted out against his lips.

  
'God I love you.'

  
He said it like it was the most natural thing, like he was so used to saying it. He didn’t even think about it and worry if this feeling was not completely mutual.

  
But Sherlock looked at him with wide eyes and lips that were opening and closing in attempts to say something and then realizing he didn’t know what to say.

  
John hurried to kiss his lips again and said calmly. ‘Shh..shhh..shh… Don’t panic…you don’t have to say anything… whatever you feel or don’t feel it’s ok. It’s ok darling.’

  
Sherlock did look less panicked but as they went on kissing he seemed more enthusiastic and something else that he didn’t have a word for it.

He seemed curious but for some reason aggressive as he was reciprocating John’s every kiss and touch.

It got to a point that John had to part his lips and look at him to make sure he is ok.  
He ran a hand through his curls and said under his breath. ‘What is it dear? You ok?’

  
Sherlock looked even more freaked out and looking as if he hadn’t heard John at all, he got closer again to kiss and bite John’s shoulders.

  
‘Hey, hey hey… look at me sweetheart. What is it? Tell me.’

  
John pulled his head back once again.  
Sherlock tried to catch his breath and said with hands that were clumsily trying to rest around John’s neck. ‘John I feel… there is a hot…’

  
Sherlock struggled for words.

  
‘I feel a hot burning thing, liquid, flame…something, that’s burning inside me. I feel so awful and… somehow,’

  
John stared at him with a frown on his eyebrows, waiting for him to continue.  
‘Good.'

  
John said while stroking Sherlock’s cheeks with his thumbs. ‘Baby, is it because of what I said? Because you can forget it. It doesn’t matter. We can talk about it some other day. Just forget it.’

  
Sherlock shook his head. No it wasn’t that and his fingers got a bit cold and this time he was sure it was because John just called him _baby_.

  
John felt Sherlock’s cold fingers on his body and realized he hadn’t succeeded in calming him down.

  
‘Hey look at me baby. I think you’re just overwhelmed,'

 

He continued with a shy smile.' Like I was, a minute ago.'

He started kissing him with lots of tongue which happened to completely distract both of them.

  
Arousal immediately found its way back to John's cock and then he realized Sherlock's erection is pressing to his thigh as well.

Sherlock arched his back, pushing his erection further in John’s thigh.

This was a clear massage, Sherlock wanted him too. Even though he was freaking out just a second ago. John climbed on top of him, straddling his hips.

  
He bent over a bit, pinning Sherlock's wrists on the bed and staring at him while panting hard with desire.

This was too perfect to delay but he had to make sure about something. 'Sherlock… it’s completely ok if you don’t feel the same way about me, but,’

  
He took a deep breath and then continued.

  
‘But if this is … some kind of experiment for you,'

  
He paused, considering if he would be able to say they should stop right now.

  
'Please just tell me now. I'm not sure if I can stop myself. I've wanted you for so long but I need to know. Before…before,'

  
Sherlock cut him off, the flames were burning inside him more than before and suddenly tears filled in his eyes. Now his voice was shaking as he felt he was figuring something out.

'John, I have never felt anything for anyone that I can call love, I'm not even sure what that is. But if you say you love me,'

  
Sherlock paused after he struggled with pronouncing _love_ while John was staring so lovingly down at him, then went on as a tear came down from the corner of his eye.

 

'If you, John Watson say that you love me, and if whatever the hell this pain is that I'm feeling in my chest which makes me want to devour you whenever I see you, means love, then apparently I do as well; I love you too John Watson.'

  
Sherlock finished and felt how the burning flames slowly turned into a warm soothing feling in his heart and it left John who was breathing heavily tear up with a bitter smile.

He leaned down, wiped the tear off of Sherlock's face with his lips, then found his way to Sherlock’s lips that were apparently subconsciously whispering those wonderful three words again and suck-kissed him hard and passionate.

His tongue in Sherlock's mouth was like a whole different level of fucking which left Sherlock breathless and desperate as he kept caressing his hips and back with his hands.

  
John hasty himself, reached out for the bottle of the lube which he had used just the night before, masturbating to the fantasy of doing this with Sherlock (had he known the fantasy would come true the very next night…)

  
Sherlock was now watching him closely. He was breathing hard, getting harder with anticipation, but this was his first time and he wanted to see carefully how John Watson who for some reason was a sex God in his mind does this. This was the part that he was a bit nervous about and now it was happening.

  
Noticing Sherlock’s curious look, John leaned in and kissed him as his hand were going behind his back to softly caress Sherlock’s thigh, very close to his groin.

  
Sherlock hissed and John said against his lips.

  
‘Are you nervous love?’

  
Sherlock considered it a bit. It didn’t feel like nervousness anymore. He wasn’t sure if feeling several butterflies flying around in his stomach would be considered nervousness.

But he also felt excited somehow.  
‘Yes and no?’

  
John smiled although Sherlock could feel him shaking a bit and he could feel his hardness on his stomach. Regardless Sherlock could see that he wasn’t rushing it. John whispered very lovingly between his kisses.

  
‘Is it ok if I start opening you up?’

  
Sherlock answered with a delicious hum in John’s mouth.

  
‘Let’s open you up then.’

  
With a last kiss John sat back on his heels, opened Sherlock’s legs, keeping eye contact, then caressing his inner thigh with his left hand he put his middle finger which was covered with lube on his entrance and watched Sherlock mouth fall open and his breaths shorten as he rubbed very slowly.  
The next process of opening him up with his fingers went painfully pleasurable and slow.

He occasionally had to bend over to kiss Sherlock as he looked so hot and also so miserable at some points.

John had to occasionally give himself a few strokes with his free hand to ease his hardness as well.

  
It wasn’t easy to watch Sherlock moan and basically fall apart in front of him and not ache to get inside him.

When he realized Sherlock was ready he couldn’t help but place a kiss at the pink area he had been opening and was desperately aching for his cock and then a kiss on Sherlock’s throbbing erection and then all of a sudden he was finally on top of Sherlock, with his left arm under his neck and his tongue in his mouth, guiding himself to Sherlock’s butt hole.

  
Sherlock was too distracted by being penetrated for the first time but as observant as the detective was he couldn’t miss the level of affection and thoughtfulness that John was putting into this particular part of their love-making; because he knew it must be very overwhelming for Sherlock.

  
He had lowered himself close on top of Sherlock, whispering words of affection and encouragement in his ears and it made it all just perfect.

  
It was incredible how a simple touch of the head of John’s cock to Sherlock’s entrance made them both moan deeply and John biting Sherlock’s lips.

And then the word "pleasure" got a whole new definition as John slowly pushed in, slowly feeling Sherlock’s tightness with his thick length.

Never breaking his gaze from Sherlock, John watched him closely to make sure the intrusion was not overwhelming him.

  
He kept asking him if he was ok and if it didn’t hurt or if it was too much.

It was too much of course but in a very pleasant way.

  
And Sherlock looked at him with innocent eyes, his pupils so fucking blown it seemed like they were about to explode.

He had trusted John with his most personal space. And he was looking at him so openly, moaning explicitly, letting John know how amazing he felt.

  
Just as he made sure Sherlock was not about to push John away and say he can’t handle it, John tilted his head down to look at the way they were locked up in each other.

John’s cock was now deep in Sherlock’s arse and he hadn’t moved yet. Then he looked up to face Sherlock again, to let their eyes talk for a moment and let him know how precious this moment was to him.

Then he put his lips on his. Not pressing, not moving, he just rested them like that for a while, Sherlock's bottom lip between his lips.

They were both breathing heavily into each other’s mouths, their faces and whole body slick with sweat. Sherlock’s bottom lip still between John’s lips, slightly rubbing against each other as their bodies moved with the way they were breathing and their eyes so close together that their eyelashes were brushing over each other.

  
John said against his lips staring tensely at his eyes.  
‘I’m going to make love to you now, Sherlock. Do you want this?’

  
Taking a minute to process what that really meant Sherlock kept his gaze at him and then nodded very innocently, in way that it kind of looked like begging.

  
‘Say it. Say it love,’

  
John’s voice broke as he felt his feelings were slowly overwhelming him. He was looking so closely at Sherlock knowing he was taking his virginity away and it was too much to handle. He needed to be sure. He needed to hear him ask for it.

  
Sherlock’s tightness around him was making it impossible to wait more, yet it was the moment; something he had fantasized about over and over in his moments of yearning for Sherlock. He just needed Sherlock to be right there with him.

He needed to know he was right there with him, that he wanted it as bad as he wanted.

John felt like all those moments of wanting him so much, that it hurt so bad was coming back to him. He felt desperate again wanting to take Sherlock instantly. Tears rolled up in his eyes.

He said with a painful moan.  
‘Fuck…say it for me baby.’

  
Sherlock finally said, his voice breaking as he was crying a bit.  
‘Make love to me John Watson.’

  
John let a moan out, staring at Sherlock’s eyes millimeters from his, his tongue immediately went in to lick Sherlock's in response and his lips followed by a passionate kiss.

With a deep moan John let out an ‘oh’ and started pulling out very slowly.

  
The sensation was too God damn fantastic which left them both trembling and digging their fingernails into each other’s bodies.

Moaning in synch; shutting their eyes closed and then again opening them with force and keeping the very intense eye contact.  
He pushed back in, watching Sherlock’s expression as it changed wonderfully second by second in response to every little jolt of pleasure he was sending through his body with every slow thrust.

  
Everything about doing this with Sherlock was unique and extraordinary for John. Apart from the fact that how badly he wanted him, he knew how he was taking his virginity away and that made it more arousing.

  
How amazing was it that after living in this world for almost thirty something years, meeting thousands of people, this one person, moving slowly in and out of him, was the guy that was supposed to make him want this? And he was the one to take his virginity away; make love to him; something he never knew he would ever want, let alone getting to a point where he couldn't take another minute to wait for it.

  
He never thought someone would come to his life someday that he would dream of kissing and touching. That someday he would want him in the most personal intimate way.

  
That he would be fucked by him, moaning loud and deep and so openly under him, asking for more, more of him inside himself.  
He never thought he would want someone orgasm inside him, while he came so hard in their hand.

  
Now he just wanted to pause this moment, with John between his legs, inside him, his ass filled with his semen, his lips resting on his own lazily kissing. Caressing each other's hair softly, both deeply satisfied and happy.  
He never wanted to let John Watson out of his arms now.

It took only one time of being with him after years of living with a strict principle of suppressing his emotions, to know all he will ever need is this; this man kissing his doubts away and guide him through the life that sometimes confused him so much.

  
John looked so peaceful and calm on top of him. He could tell. He just wished with all his heart that he was as happy as Sherlock was at that moment.

  
They snuggled lazily more, whispering what they felt about each other in each other’s ears; talking quietly and with their sleepy voices about what they went through for so long wanting to be with each other while they kissed, entwined their fingers and stroke each other’s faces and bodies.

  
Then they dosed off until John woke up again three hours later, reaching sleepily for Sherlock's legs, lying on top of him, waking him up by kisses and licks on his mouth and neck and was welcomed by Sherlock's approving moans and inviting hands and then started fucking him again.

  
They did it four times until the morning and then Sherlock woke up at nine waking John with excitement to suggest that they take a shower together and have a shower sex and went on to explain how once someone had mentioned shower sex and John's eyes had lit up.

  
Then John grabbed his head and kissed his cheeks and then lips because he was being so adorable and that he had noticed that about John and because it was such a great idea which had naturally turned him on instantly; as if Sherlock’s existence wasn’t an enough turn on, on its own.

  
They had jumped to the shower and John had rocked Sherlock's world to the point that none of them could stand properly anymore and then they lied in the tub enjoying the amazing peace of each other's company and then after a while Sherlock had said that was the greatest thing he has ever done, maybe right next to solving crimes which made John's stomach sink and led them to another hot shower sex.

  
All they did was fuck for an entire month. They were like two teenagers who had just discovered sex.  
And Sherlock kept solving their cases faster than usual, pulling John's hand quickly to get him back to their flat and snuggle and fuck more.

  
They annoyed everyone around them to the point that they begged them to go back to their flat and not come out for another year when they were done with this phase.

  
John had to borrow one of Sherlock's scarves (although he had to look for one with a different color; the last thing they needed was to wear matching clothes as if they weren’t attracting enough attention by then) to wrap around his neck as well and every time someone asked about the bruises all over Sherlock's jaw line or little wounds on Sherlock's lips, Sherlock gave a mischievous smirk and John cleared his throat trying to look away.

  
They kept asking because no one expected that many bruises to be marks of passion.

They thought it was out of character for them but only they knew what happened in that bedroom, and maybe Mrs. Hudson who had heard too much already and nothing they did surprised her anymore.

 

Like when there was a client in the house, talking about his case and Sherlock knew it was boring but he was keeping silent till he was done to say something; because John had warned him to behave before the client came in and all he could do now was sulk on the sofa.

  
And John was pretending to listen and smile at the client when suddenly Sherlock sneezed which had never happened before.  
John stared at him with wide eyes and an open mouth as he realized it was the first time he had heard Sherlock sneeze after all the time he had known him.

  
Sherlock wiped his nose with the back of his hand and looked at John who was staring at him with a happy smile. He frowned as he didn’t understand the surprised look; he kind of thought that he was about to be in trouble. Then with the most loving look, John got up and straddled Sherlock’s lap and with his hands hungrily going through his hair, he kissed him passionately and Sherlock reciprocated with so much joy.  
The guy stood up looking completely confused, staring at them and thinking how inappropriate it was when Mrs. Hudson came into the living room from the kitchen, put her hand on the guy’s back and said  
‘Come on. Let me show you to the door’  
The guy realizing this doesn’t look like it’s going to end any time soon, started walking but at the same time kept looking back at them; at the way they were kissing and humming and said  
‘But I don’t understand. What happened?’  
Mrs. Hudson sighed and said  
‘Well, he sneezed’  
And all the way to downstairs he could hear loud breathings and hums and kissing noises and an accessional  
The detective yelling ‘John!!’ and the blogger groaned saying‘Fuck, you are so fucking hot’  
The poor guy couldn’t believe those were the famous Sherlock Holmes and Doctor John Watson.  
He was disturbed by that for days.

It was all so great and even their fights made their relationship stronger and offered more make up sex which Sherlock just died for. Angry John Watson did him good.

  
John shivered a little as he suddenly remembered how different Sherlock looked after every make up sex.

  
He looked very satisfied but a bit worried. He stayed closer than he would after their usual sex, caressing and stroking John's body more gently and lovingly and he kept asking if John was OK; talking to him close to his face keeping his eyes on him.

  
John never really understood why was he like that those times but he felt like Sherlock was extra sensitive after every make up sex. It could’ve been John’s imagination; he thought to himself but anything it was Sherlock never mentioned anything about it.

  
But as time passed and they experienced some big fights it wasn't always possible to get aroused anymore.

  
After a while John just expected Sherlock to understand, to meet him halfway. But that never happened.

  
John shifted on the sofa a bit, not really able to make himself comfortable.

It just bothered him so much that he never gave up. Never admitted he was wrong even a bit.

  
That John was always the one who tried to forget about what Sherlock did. That it was always his fault.

  
It just hurt sometimes that Sherlock didn't consider him as a partner. It was as if he really felt like a commander and considered John someone who just had to follow him around without asking questions.  
John felt like it was his fault too. He was too patient and didn't complain as much as he should have.

  
He also ignored many things that Sherlock did because he loved him. He knew that it would only encourage him but he couldn't really stop himself.

  
John felt dizzy with sleep and subconsciously reached for Sherlock's body to hold him since he was so used to it, only to hit his hand hard to the sofa cushion.

  
He cursed between his teeth and rubbed his hand with the other; then he looked at his knuckles and fingers and realized they miss Sherlock's curls.

  
He was so tired yet he couldn't bring himself to sleep without Sherlock there; that giant lunatic that felt so right in his arms.

  
He sometimes woke John up in the middle of the night just to tell him 'I love you'.

  
Because he dreamed about him and in his subconscious remembered he hadn't said _I love you_ to him that day and it wasn’t acceptable to him.

  
He would say I love you to him even when they were at a crime scene, standing next to a dead body and John used to frown at him when he did that at first by later on it was difficult not to giggle and call him an idiot while smiling like a fool and very rarely if they were lucky and no one was looking (or Greg wasn’t around to roll his eyes) pulling him down by his scarf and pressing a quick loving kiss to his lips.  
John loved it despite asking him to keep the _I love yous_  out of crime scenes.

  
He was an amazing creature but he had to consider from time to time that John is only a human. He had limits. He couldn't ignore every stupid dangerous thing that Sherlock did. He couldn’t just shake it off.  
It seemed like Sherlock didn't care that he had someone who was more dependent on him now. John would've gone through hell and back whenever Sherlock just ran off chasing criminals with nothing to defend himself and disappeared in a second in a way that no one could tell where he was.

  
Then he would come back hours later when John was ready to expect a call telling him Sherlock was dead, and act like he did nothing wrong.

  
First times that it had happened John would've jumped towards him and hold him tight as he saw him come back alive and just kept kissing him more tenderly and kept him close for days because he was grateful that he was OK.

  
But later it just bothered him how Sherlock didn't think for a second how John would feel if something happened to him.  
How shattered he would be.

  
Thinking back john couldn’t believe what a day they had had.

  
John wasn’t feeling particularly good that morning.They had been on a complicated case all day and Sherlock had been determined to get a solid confession out of the criminal. John had kept telling him to not push it and not underestimate him but as stubborn as he was, Sherlock kept provoking the psychopath to the point that he managed to make himself become a hostage. Sherlock had left John behind once again and he couldn’t reach Greg either, who was supposed to look after them.

  
It had been the longest three hours of John’s life and he had felt so useless that he couldn’t do anything and had no idea where the lunatic had taken Sherlock.

  
John had started believing something horrible had happened when Greg finally called him and told him that Sherlock was OK and that where he can find them.

  
Only John didn’t go to meet Sherlock, he went home instead because he knew if he saw him at that moment there was a chance he would punch him; like multiple times.

  
Sherlock came back an hour later, all excited and ecstatic, expecting praises from John when he told him he succeeded to get a confession from the criminal, the whole Scotland Yard was surrounding them. Sherlock went on to say he confessed to every little crime he ever did with the exact location of all of the bodies he had hidden; just to brag, not knowing the police force were listening to every word.

  
The only thing that he wasn’t mentioning which he thought was a minor detail was the fact that the whole time the guy was confessing he had a gun in Sherlock’s mouth and no matter how many guns were on him if something went wrong and he got shot there was a high chance he would’ve pulled the trigger in Sherlock’s mouth as well, only out of reflex.  
John had had his back to Sherlock, lying on the bed, ignoring Sherlock knew he wasn’t but he also didn’t care that John was ignoring him.

  
He could feel the thrill in his voice and his presence. Sherlock sat on the bed grabbing his laptop from under the bed, probably as a substitute for getting John in his arms and squeeze him hard and then bite every part of him out of excitement; because that was what usually happened after he closed a challenging case. John thought he was probably hard from the minute he got in a taxi to get there. Post-closed-case sex was one of their hottest ones; but not tonight; John knew for sure.

  
After a while realizing John was not gonna say anything Sherlock said. ‘John, I know you’re probably angry for some reason, but…’ and that was when John snapped and got up and shout at him at the top of his lungs, how irritating it was to do all that and come home and talk about it like it was just another adventure.

  
And Sherlock went on to say as always John was overreacting and taking a little risk was nothing compared to the result they got. Then John got out of the bed, standing by the foot of it not being able to sit anymore with the amount of anger that was raging through his body.

  
‘You put yourself in danger not because of the results but because it excites you, you get off on it; you gamble with your bloody life,’

  
‘What difference does it make what are my intentions? I get the result. It’s my life and that’s how I choose to take advantage of it whenever I want.’

  
John greeted his teeth saying with the maddest tone. 'So the fact that I'm your boyfriend does not make any difference in this?'

  
'Actually no John, it really doesn't.'  
John chuckled; the most exasperated one.

  
‘Well, good to know where you stand on a two way relationships after one whole year of fucking being together.’

  
'Maybe you should've predicted that before shagging the sociopath.' Sherlock just blurted out; with the most indifferent face.

  
*

It was not exactly the stupid shit he had said. Sherlock was extra cold when someone started disagreeing with him; mostly when it was John and mostly when he was right and Sherlock knew it. It was the fact that John knew this would happen over and over again, and that Sherlock won't stop until he is actually hurt and John knew if he doesn't make him stop now he'll keep doing it until... Well, John didn't even have it in him to imagine if something happened to Sherlock.

John had grabbed a pillow and before Sherlock's shocked profile, went out of the room; to sleep separately for the first time in one year that they had been together.  
Sherlock had put the laptop away and followed him out, looking at him go in disbelief.

  
Then in the living room he had watched him with pursed lips and crossed elbows, standing in the corner, as John had put the pillow on the sofa and with his back to Sherlock he had pulled a blanket over himself and curled into the sofa.

  
Sherlock had stood there silently. As if he thought his presence alone would be enough to let John know he wants him back in their bed, but he was too vain to say anything.  
He was probably thinking to himself _John can't sleep on that awful thing_ ; well, not without him.so he will be uncomfortable in a while and also realizes he can't sleep without him and go back. Therefore he held his chin up and went back to his bedroom.

  
John really was uncomfortable. He reviewed every little memory of the two of them on that sofa; the first few months of their relationship when they couldn't keep their hands Off of each other.  
Whenever they sat on the sofa to watch telly (Well John did and Sherlock was just there to snuggle him) they ended up having sex. Whenever they sat there to read, it ended in them having sex.  
Whenever they were eating, drinking a cup of tea, trying to solve a case, checking the Website, it all finished in sex.

  
They tried sitting separately not facing each other just so that they could get something done.  
Sherlock would sit on the sofa and John behind the table with his back to Sherlock.  
They would try anything they could to keep their minds off of each other but it would end in either Sherlock getting impatient and jump on him and drag him to the sofa and grabbing his cock to sink on it and it would've been ten times hotter than their regular sofa sex or it would end in John turning his back to him and say with a shrug.

  
"All I can think about is your cock,"

  
And Sherlock would go to him straddle his legs and start kissing him while taking his hand and slip it under his pants to grab his cock. And they would kiss so slowly and passionately with insane amount of tongue. And again they would end up touching each other and then going to collapse themselves on the sofa and keep snuggling.

  
This was a whole different definition of being in a happy relationship. John never felt so complete and satisfied and happy with himself. Sex with Sherlock was a whole different level of physical relationship as well.

  
Sherlock brought up this passionate lover in him and John, well he brought up both the animal who could never have enough of John and the also the little innocent child in him that had deprived himself of emotional contact for many years and now needed to be cuddled and loved. John did notice that about Sherlock when once he took a risk and during a quiet moment of spooning after sex, when he was running his finger gently on the back of Sherlock’s eye-lids and watching Sherlock’s peaceful and nice profile in his arms, he called him ‘my gorgeous baby boy’ and he felt Sherlock’s fingers go cold on his back and he slowly buried his face in John’s chest but not before John saw how he blushed.

  
John didn’t overdo it though. That phrase was only used when Sherlock was being vulnerable and the closest to his emotional insecure inner child.  
It also worked magic when Sherlock was having a frustrating day and refused to talk about it and couldn’t quiet let go to have an orgasm even though John was good as always; and the phrase would push him over the edge and he would come beautifully in John’s hand.

John did think from time to time that even if Sherlock was a giant stubborn bloke who some people even called narcissistic when it came to certain emotional aspect of him, he needed to love and be loved just like anyone else. He was a human being after all; an amazing human being and he really was now no one else’s but John’s beautiful boy.

  
John thought to himself as it brought a smile to his lips. He shook his head to stop himself from thinking. He should've been thinking about a plan to make Sherlock realize he has to stop doing this not review every hot sex they had and start turning himself on.

  
An hour had passed. Sherlock who apparently had realized that John wasn't going back came back to do something about it. He had changed into his grey t-shirt and dark grey pants which John loved so much on him. It made him look messy and fluffy and it just made John want to grab him and squeeze him all the time and wearing his blue-navy gown over it. He paced quietly in the hallway gazing at John repeatedly.

He was breathing relatively loud through his nose and trying to walk as noisily as he could but since John didn't pay any attention to him or even move a little, he stormed back into his room.  
As John heard Sherlock going back to his room he tried to reach for something, anything that he could hold to be able to get more comfortable.

  
There was a small cushion lying on the other end of the sofa, he grabbed it and held it tight. He made sure the blanket covered the cushion so that Sherlock doesn’t see how he needs something to hold to be able to sleep now.

  
Fuck that little dickhead who was so arrogant all the time; he didn’t need him. He didn’t care if he couldn’t sleep at all. 

  
Then his mind went to the time Sherlock tried to give John a blow-job for the first time. He hadn’t done it before and of course it was a whole different thing when it was about John.  
It was almost a week after they had gotten together and Sherlock had been ….with the idea of taking John in his mouth and he could tell that John had been waiting for it.  
The only thing that had terrified him to even suggest that was the fact that he hadn’t done it before and he was worried his lack of experience would make it an awful first experience for both of them because he could feel how John was excited to get it from him.  
He did examine that part of John a lot; quiet adorably too. Sometimes when John was asleep and he had woken up earlier he would pull John’s pants down slowly and get the freaking amazing thing out and start looking at it very closely and thoroughly. He would touch it with the tip of his fingers very delicately and then put his lips very lightly on it from head to base and vice versa; like a very light brush, like trying to know it with his lips.  
John had already given him a blow job just after they were back from the shower on their first day together.  
It had brought Sherlock to space and back and he didn’t know there was anything else other than having sex with John that could have that pleasant level of intimacy and pleasure.  
John took him very gently and lovingly like he was so precious and did some things with his lips and tongue that brought Sherlock to unbelievable amount of pleasure.  
Although it was his first time giving blow job too but Sherlock assumed having received those before he must’ve known better what he was doing.  
Sherlock took his time getting familiar with John’s cock. He lied between John’s legs, with John’s cock presented to him, he would put his arms under John’s thighs resting his hands on both side of his hips stroking playfully as he rubbed his face so very lightly on his cock; looking at it from every angle, as if talking to it and getting to know it; getting to know each other even.  
However the times that John was awake and it was right after they had sex or when they were just lying down, too tired to do anything, he dragged himself between John’s legs and tried that again and watched how wonderfully his simple touch aroused John and that would bring him courage to try it for real one time.  
It was around a lazy afternoon when Sherlock heard John's footsteps coming in the flat.  
He had gone out and left a note saying be back for dinner, sorry.  
Sherlock was at Bart's, to check on something that Molly had called about. Only when he got there he deduced Molly was being strange and with a simple question he found out it was John's idea to ask Molly to find an interesting corpse and tell Sherlock to check it out.  
Obviously John had had tried to find something for Sherlock to do before he would drive both of them crazy by his major sulking.  
There was nothing suspicious about the dead body, just something that people occasionally mistook for something special.  
Sherlock went back home hoping to give John a piece of his mind when he saw the note.  
He would still wait until he came back to give him hell but from John's handwriting he realized it had something to do with Harry and anything that was about Harry couldn't be good; So Sherlock changed his plan.  
He ordered some Chinese and made an herbal tea, which he was pretty good at and waited for John thinking when he comes back he would be either a ball of anger or forcing an indifferent expression. Either way Sherlock knew he deserved some love when he came back.  
So when Sherlock heard his footsteps he realized it was the latter.  
He heard John drop himself on the sofa, and went to the living room already with a plan.  
John was burying his face in the sofa, leaving his arms under his body.  
John didn't know Sherlock would be back by then because it was supposed to occupy him longer than that and he himself around dinner time.  
So when he felt Sherlock's hands on himself he turned his face around with surprise.  
As he heard his name from Sherlock with that kind and low voice he said desperately  
'God, I didn't think you would be back,'  
John sat up and pulling Sherlock close by his collar he locked his lips on his, passionately.  
Only parted his lips to take a breath and said  
'Thank God you're here; I want you so bad right now'  
Sherlock kissed him back tenderly, holding John's head with his hands; knowing this was only a substitute for the pain he was feeling in his heart.  
Sherlock wasn't an expert in human emotions of course, but he knew he had to make John talk to feel better and if they had sex right now, that wouldn't have happened.  
Sherlock parted his lips only to move it to other parts of his face and place kisses on his cheeks and get closer to hold him tighter as well.  
John's lips started working on his neck and shoulders as well.  
As Sherlock tried to make John comfortable in his arms, he rubbed his hands all over his back very lightly and stopped kissing him to place John perfectly in his arms.  
John's heavy breathing started easing but he was about to complain about what he was doing. Sherlock knew very well by then that he wasn't very good at sharing his feelings so he was not going to step in that territory.  
Sherlock said pulling him even closer and tilting his head to kiss the back of his neck.  
'Why don't you go take a bath and relax while I prepare something special for us to do?'  
John laughed although Sherlock could feel it wasn't a relaxed one.  
'Sherlock we are not about to have a sex marathon. What exactly is there to prepare? Just give me your damn butt so I can tear it apart'  
He said the last part seductive and playfully, pulling back a bit to bite on Sherlock's neck.  
Sherlock said softly pulling back to cup John's cheeks and look into his eyes  
'Do you trust me John?'  
John's expression changed with Sherlock's open and sincere question.  
He paused for a bit looking into those eyes, sadness slowly finding its way back to his eyes and said lovingly  
'Yes of course I do darling'  
Sherlock kissed his lips softly with some tongue involved and said  
'Then take a bath for me.'  
John didn't say anything but his whole body was begging him to ask Sherlock to be there with him, but he didn't want Sherlock to know how awful and sad he felt at that moment.  
John lied in the bathtub that Sherlock had prepared. The hot water was very soothing.  
Sherlock was right suggesting this. He was feeling a lot more relaxed in the hot water.  
For a minute he did wish he could talk to Sherlock about it. Sherlock would've been a great shoulder to cry and he was a good listener when he decided to be; but he just couldn't bring himself to talk.  
It got him more tense thinking what a mess he was when it came to family. He bit his lips to not miserably call Sherlock's name to come and hold him as feelings started to overwhelm him.  
He was running his fingers through his hair when the door opened and Sherlock stood by the door.  
John trying hard to not give away his sad feelings gave a faint smile and said  
'What is it Sherlock? Everything OK?'  
Sherlock looked at him softly and after closing the door he took off his t-shirt in one go and then his sweat pants.  
John felt so happy as he realized he was about to join him, but he tried to be subtle, knowing if he expressed too much he would start crying or something.  
'you changed your mind?'  
Sherlock got in the tub leaving his pants on which John wasn't particularly happy about.  
'Not changed, that was the plan'  
John smiled andSherlock leaned in to kiss him.  
Sherlock was sitting on his knees and heels next to John, holding him closely and tenderly and kissing him.  
John was humming none stop, Sherlock could feel how desperate he was and it was breaking his heart.  
He ran his hand all over John's neck and shoulder and upper body.  
And he was sure John must've been hard by then.  
He was.  
John broke the kiss reaching for Sherlock's pants. He said between his kisses  
'Take this stupid thing off. I want you now'  
Sherlock's hand moved to John's and grabbed his wrist.  
'Shhh... I have something else in mind'  
John frowned, not understanding what he could mean...'  
Oh but Sherlock started kissing his chest and sucking at everything.  
John let out a breath and forgot about what he said once again.  
Sherlock's lips went to kiss and play with one nipple and his fingers went to play with the other.  
John hissed and his toes started to tremble.  
He ran his one hand in Sherlock's hair as his other hand was on the tub floor steadying him.  
Sherlock nibbled and sucked at his nipples sending jolts of joy to his cock.  
Then when he got enough praises and moans and hisses from John he moved to his belly button and worked his tongue there for a while too.  
As he moved to lower parts and closer to his groin, John realized Sherlock was planning to give him a blow job. As exciting as it was John had learned in the few days that they were together that this was a touchy subject for Sherlock and he was a bit nervous about it.  
He had thought after quite a few blow jobs that he gives him he will learn how to do it properly but he wasn't ready yet.  
It wasn't that he cared if it was the best blow job or even the worst, he was just worried that if he couldn't fake it good and Sherlock would notice which he definitely would and be disappointed.  
He grabbed a handful of Sherlock’s hair with both hands and lightly pulled as he said a bit breathless  
‘Sherlock come up here with me for now; you don’ have to,’  
Sherlock cut him off hushing him while coming up to him and kissing him with tongue in the most tender way that relaxed every part of his body. He went dizzy with the kiss and the way Sherlock was being so gentle and lovely.  
He slowly kissed John’s chest getting back down there and found his way back to John’s groin again.  
His mouth found his way back to John’s cock and he took him in. After a few seconds of sucking John trembling now a bit uncontrollably dug his fingers in Sherlock’s skull and said breathlessly  
‘Baby, baby please, wait,’  
Sherlock lifted his head up, looking hyped up and a bit breathless himself with a confused shade on his face.  
John pushed strands of curl away from his forehead and said  
‘This is amazing; mind-blowing. Bu…but I don’t want it this way,’  
Sherlock frowned looking even more confused.  
‘I wanna see your face, I want to feel you with my feet, I want to…’  
He got impatient with his own dizziness  
‘Take me to our bed Sherlock’  
He said desperately yet it somehow came out so romantic.  
Sherlock got himself to his lips quickly to kiss him hard and then held John’s legs around his waist and got up taking John with him.  
John chuckled but buried his face in Sherlock’s shoulder and held him back tightly because it still felt incredibly hot to be carried by Sherlock that way.  
He carried John to the bedroom, placing kisses on his shoulders as he did. Put him gently on the bed and kissed his smile on the way of going down on him.  
He didn’t waste any time with foreplay this time. He placed himself between John’s legs, making himself comfortable with what he wanted to do; then took a look at John’s face as his lips were starting to tremble with anticipation and then made a fist around his base.  
John’s breathing got a bit heavier and then Sherlock slowly moved his lips to the head staring at it with so much love and interest.  
Then as he was closing the distance to put his lips on it he looked up to keep eye contact, knowing how important this part was and knowing how more amazing it felt like this.  
Sherlock took the head in looking at John with fierce eyes. He was really taking his time and not breaking eye contact for a second, letting John know how precious and important this is to him.  
Sherlock was right to give him a blow job instead of having sex with him. That way John would have been in control and he would have poured all his anger and sadness in his thrusts but this way he would be vulnerable and open and it would’ve made it more likely that he would open up later.  
Just as he came in Sherlock’s mouth which Sherlock swallowed with enthusiasm and moaned so very loudly, Sherlock pulled back as he letJohn’s cock slowly slip from his mouth and went up to lay half on top of him, holding his head between the crook of his arm, stroking his hair with his hand and to looked at his beautiful satisfied face; the result of what he had done to him.  
John was still breathing heavily with eyes closed.  
Sherlock started placing very lazy kisses on his cheek; more like rubbing his lips on it and he rested his other hand on John’s ear stroking lightly and watching his face closely.  
John’s hand went to rest on the back of the hand that was caressing his ear and entwined his fingers with Sherlock’s.  
But as he opened his eyes and looked at Sherlock’s very kind ones, that looked like they were saying something to him, tears rolled up in his eyes and he started crying.  
Sherlock held his head and rested his lips on John’s forehead; holding him tightly and letting him cry in his arms as much as he wanted.  
After a while John had stopped crying and started talking to Sherlock; about how Harry Is still a mess and she is being bitter; not accepting John’s help and not stop making him feel guilty and useless as a brother.  
Then Sherlock had told him he would think of some plan to give Harry to make her stop drinking and try and change her life and John had nodded almost happily because he knew Sherlock wouldn’t suggest something he doesn’t really know how to do.  
At that moment John had thought what a blessing Sherlock is to his life.  
John’s cock twitched as he remembered the great feeling that evening. He sighed and tried to concentrate on sleeping; just anything to keep his mind off of Sherlock and his mouth actually.  
He did think about times like that; that their rolls in their relationship temporarily reversed. Whenever John was feeling down and depressed Sherlock automatically would become this thoughtful caring patient boyfriend and John would get to be let himself be taken care of by him.  
It seemed like twenty minutes later that he heard Sherlock’s breathing again. It seemed like he wasn’t trying to breath noisily anymore and he didn’t really pass his bedroom door either.  
John tried to ignore it anyways.  
He was right. Sherlock had come out and waited if he could hear John move or something and as he didn’t he just sat by his bedroom door, stretching his long legs in front of him and pursing his lips.  
As if he thought any minute John would change his mind and get up to go back and Sherlock would be there crossing his arms over his chest and looking at him like saying ‘What a ridiculous attempt it was. Of course you couldn’t sleep without me.’  
He sat there for about fifteen minutes and when his butt started to go sore on the cold floor, he got up and went back.  
John kept repeating to himself that he was not backing down. He was not just making Sherlock regret what he said and did, he had decided to put an end to all of his childish behavior and he was not going to back down.  
The fringeof the blanket was brushing over John’s face making it tickle; not really pleasantly. He wished he had the strength to get up and find something better to cover himself. He hadn’t slept under anything besides Sherlock’s fancy duvet for a year now and it wasn’t easy to ignore; the duvet that Sherlock had got specifically for him. Because they were once in a client’s house who was very rich and was claiming that there is a ghost in his house, moving in his bedroom at night and breathe close to his face when he is half asleep.  
Sherlock couldn’t wait to prove that there was no ghost in the house and as he managed to do so later it was his neighbor trying to freak him out to move out of the house to buy it himself.  
Sherlock figured it out minutes after he entered the room; the amateur had planted many things to help him play a ghost at nights; only he didn’t know those things would not be overlooked in Sherlock Holmes’s presence.  
The other thing that was not overlooked by Sherlock Holmes was the way John looked at the bed and then commented on the duvet.  
John had seen that set on TV commercials; he thought it was ridiculously expensive but he didn’t seem to be able to get his eyes off of it. And he had then said if he was that rich he probably would have bought the same duvet of course and then he had laughed.  
The other day when John came home and went to kiss Sherlock who was occupying himself in the kitchen, hello, he seemed exactly like always. Not at all like someone who had just bought a ridiculously expensive duvet for his boyfriend and had the store guys put it on the bed to surprise him. When John went to the bedroom to drop himself on the bed and call Sherlock to go and cuddle him he realized something was amazingly soft underneath him and a second later there was yelling and scolding and then they were arguing until the night.  
John had gotten very mad at Sherlock for buying that and had told him if he had that much money they could have put it to much better use and that he wouldn’t sleep on their bed until he gave it back. And then Sherlock had gotten mad and stopped talking to John because he was overreacting again and had gone out and hadn’t told him where he was going.  
Later when he had come back John had been lying down on the sofa but had gotten up as he had seen Sherlock. Then he had gone to the door to kiss him and he had apologized and then he had held his hand and had taken him to their bedroom, to their bed, which he had covered with red rose petals and Sherlock had mocked him for doing that although John knew he liked it and pulled Sherlock to drop both of them on the duvet and told him he shouldn’t have acted that way and it was very romantic what he did despite it being really stupid.  
And Sherlock had smiled against his lips and told him he didn’t have to pay the whole money and then no matter how many times John asked he never told him how he got the expensive duvet.  
Someone probably owed him a favor.  
John had thought. And it had just felt amazing to sleep in Sherlock’s arms under the soft duvet, knowing no matter how stupidly and childishly, his boyfriend cares about his every little desire which he wasn’t really sure how he found out about before he himself did.  
It was one of the rare times that John felt like sleeping in Sherlock’s arms and Sherlock felt like wrapping his arms around him; as opposed to the other way around which always felt more right.  
That memory brought a smile to his lips and before he could remember to scold himself because of it, he drifted off.  
He did have planned to stay away from Sherlock until he came to his senses but deep down he knew he didn’t have it in him. He had already thought how he would be back on their bed with him probably the next night and God even one night apart made it feel like a year and all he could picture about next time was him showering Sherlock with kisses and bites and covering him in bruises.  
Damn, he just wanted Sherlock in his arms so badly.  
That lead him to review everything that happened that day from the beginning again and it was getting tricky to stop.  
John didn't remember when his mind got tired of having a mental fight with Sherlock and he dosed off but it didn't seem like he had slept all that much.

He woke up to the sound of Sherlock eating God knows what which made the most annoying sound. He was sitting on his chair, legs curled under his body, with a pack of chips which John wasn't sure where he got from, staring at him.  
John threw a very quick gaze at him.

He had a blank yet somehow entitled Profile. The one he always had when he had done something wrong and was too much of an arrogant git to admit it.

John tried to ignore him even though that noise was going on his last nerve. He didn't want to encourage him to act more childish.

After a few minutes realizing his silent methods were not gonna help, Sherlock finally said in his stiff tone although there was a hint of edginess in it too

'Alright, it’s enough John; I think you showed just how angry you are, now get your butt back to bed and sleep where you should be sleeping.'

First of all hearing his voice again after couple of silent hours which seriously felt like days made him want to get over there and pull his pants down and fuck him senseless. He was almost completely sure Sherlock doesn’t know the effect of his own voice on John because if he did he wouldn’t have stayed silent as much as he did.  
Then trying so hard to push that thought away he noticed the peculiar sentence Sherlock just used.What? Was he trying to say something romantic with that tone? Hell no. John was not gonna give into that. Sherlock wasn't even close to changing John's mind.

John still didn't say anything. He didn’t give a sassy comeback or a sarcastic comment; he just stayed silent not even acknowledging what he said and he missed the truly confused and lost look on Sherlock's face.

After a while John was back to sleep and hadn't even heard Sherlock getting up and going back to his room.  
Sure, the idea did pass his mind every now and then that maybe this wasn’t really necessary, but he ignored it. Because he believed that it actually was necessary.  
Somewhere in his subconscious he was thinking about that even though he was almost asleep; that was probably why he was dreaming about sleeping next to Sherlock, holding him close, stroking his body gently and all of a sudden he could feel his touch too.  
It felt like Sherlock’s soft long fingers were resting on his arm. John slowly woke up when he realized it’s not part of the dream anymore.  
Just then he realized he was hearing Sherlock’s very low soft voice as well.  
Sherlock was kneeling down, next to the sofa, lightly moving him.  
John barely looked in his direction. Having just woken up he could only hear his own name and didn't really catch the rest of what Sherlock was saying.  
He got very irritated that Sherlock kept waking him up and he said in a tight voice  
'Wha... what? What is it?'  
He was expecting a very selfish sentence from Sherlock with a very condescending or impatient tone. The way he always acted when he didn’t think he should apologize or didn’t actually think there was anything wrong with what he did but he just expected John to not be mad at him either.  
However Sherlock said in the same low voice  
'John, come back to bed'  
John was about to snap and he was really irritated, but he tried to control himself; he took a breath but Still with a pretty mad voice said  
'Go back to sleep Sherlock. I have an early shift tomorrow. Go away.'  
He said that and then turned his back to him, knowing from previous experiences that Sherlock would either keep bothering him until he gives up or just leave him alone and sulk through the next day.  
Although somewhere in there he wondered what time it was and had Sherlock been awake all this time? Did he have trouble going back to sleep? Well he knew Sherlock almost never had trouble going to sleep. It was the thing with him, it was easy for him to just put his head on the pillow and drift off.

They had spent the whole past year together, not a single night apart.  
They even took their naps in each other's arms; as a matter of fact mostly John did when he was back from work or sometimes after an exhausting day that he had to run errands.  
Even when Sherlock was on the sofa doing serious work on his laptop John would drop himself on the sofa next to him, curl up on it and then he would lift Sherlock’s arm just enough to get his head on his lap from under his arm.  
He would say ‘only twenty minutes Sherlock. Don’t forget to wake me up, I’ve got things to do.’ Then he would bury his face in Sherlock's stomach, his nose brushing his skin over his shirt and tickle him a bit making him giggle. And Sherlock would stroke his hair with one hand until he went to sleep and work on his laptop with the other. His long kind fingers would carefully stroke the silver hair and every once in a while goes to adventurously caress his ear or the smooth length of his neck. He would stay like that as long as John was asleep. Not moving at all even if his legs went sore.  
And he wouldn’t wake him up after twenty minutes because he loved him asleep on his lap and he knew John didn’t really have to wake up after twenty minutes; he just worried so much.  
Suddenly he remembered how important it was for Sherlock that john was in bed when he wanted to sleep. He did get into the habit of sleeping early after he got together with John.  
He used to resist it before but after a while he got used to it because John slept soon and he was always there when John was.  
So when he was tired and he needed to sleep but john had things to do or wasn’t sleepy yet, he would simply take his hand and make him stop whatever he was doing, sometimes pushed him on the bed (which mostly made him laugh) and waited for those lovely arms to be held out for him (as childish as he was) and curl into them.And John would kiss his hair and forehead and rub his hand on his body until he went to sleep and then leave the room to what he was doing.  
There were times that he was particularly focused on petting him until he went to sleep and other times that he was too much into the book he was reading so he held Sherlock with one arm and held his book with the other; Sherlock didn’t mind (Not always).  
Not that it wasn't important for John Sherlock being there, but Sherlock would always make a point to sleep in John's arms and even demanded that he stroke his hair and rub his hands on his body while he was going to sleep.  
God he was just a big baby wasn’t he? John thought to himself.  
But Sherlock was an adult too(broadly speakin). He must've known that that's how people fight and when they fight they tend to sleep apart.

Although he suddenly found himself wishing that it wasn't true that it wasn’t something that they did. He loved having him in his arms in bed. Not just loved, needed him there.  
Even when John had gone to bed earlier the mere idea of Sherlock being there at some point in the night was enough to make him feel more comfortable.  
Strangely the times that Sherlock had stayed up all night doing an experiment John would wake up several times during the night because he didn’t feel Sherlock next to himself.  
Come to think of it their relationship seemed to be cheesy a bit; but so what? They were both the happiest they had been all their lives.  
John realized Sherlock hadn't moved. He was thinking about what to say or do when Sherlock said in the exact same way he said before.  
'John I can't sleep, come to bed.'  
John sighed getting up on one elbow rubbing his eyes.  
He knew that changed things. That look, that voice, that very rare open honest tone, the way he kept coming back they all showed this was genuine.  
Sherlock wasn't acting, he was in fact as desperate as he sounded and John couldn't just ignore that. After all he loved him beyond words and he cared about his feelings even if he kept being a jerk.  
And honestly the way he said it, which wasn’t demanding or smug or egotistic it was something so new, so different and so pure, it shook something inside John.  
He ignored it.  
He paused for a minute in that position, looking at his feet with a frown on his face still not looking at Sherlock.  
He hadn’t moved a bit, staying in the same exact position waiting for John.

Even without looking at him he could feel he was a lot different from couple of hours ago. He was quiet and he also somehow looked sorry which happened so rarely.

John considered his options very quickly. If he went back he had accepted what Sherlock had asked for but he still had the upper hand. Because if Sherlock was actually sorry then maybe he would listen this time and agree that what he did was wrong then maybe he would try to change his ways a bit.  
As he thought more he realized there are no other options because well, how could he just ignore Sherlock’s discomfort?  
And what good would that do? He didn’t want to push Sherlock away he just wanted to make a point.

After a few seconds John got up and took his pillow and blanket with him. Not for once looking at Sherlock.  
Sherlock got up quickly and waited for him, standing almost close although he kept some distance he seemed like he didn't feel allowed to get any closer to John.

He kept his gaze fixed on John the entire time; watching him closely with a semi worried look on his face.

John felt something strange about the way Sherlock was acting. It could be because how tired he was. Both of them actually. They had been working for two days nonstop and then all the drama and action happened. Normally he would’ve tried to make sure he is OK but he thought screw it he got what he wanted like he always does.

John went into the bedroom and Sherlock followed him half hopefully half and half gloomily. Something was bothering him in his mind and all he could do was to wait for John to show where he stands.

John threw himself at the right end of the bed almost close to the edge where he had never slept before. They had always slept close to each other in the center.

He didn't get under the duvet. Instead he cast it aside and pulled the blanket on himself. Maybe as a last attempt to show he is not backing down. Sherlock got under covers fast and as he was moving to get a bit closer, John said without looking back at him

'No touching'

Sherlock stopped without saying anything. He was staring at the back of John's head, leaning his head on both of his hands which were on his pillow. If you looked at his face it was completely blank and you couldn’t understand a thing from it. But there was something in his eyes, as fierce and yet tired as they were, something that wasn’t Sherlock; at least not the confident egotistic famous detective.

He was breathing heavily through his nose which made a lot of sound in the annoying silence of the room.

John clenched his jaw. Ok that was a bit ridiculous. Saying to Sherlock to not touch him.It was a bit over the top but in fairness after coming back to sleeping on the bed with him, what was left to do to show he was still mad? Neverthelesshe knew even if he was dead mad he wanted to sleep close to Sherlock, but he also hated that Sherlock always got his way with playing childish like that.

John thoughtgreat now he’s gonna keep on making sad noises until John surrenders. That was actually the level of his childishness. But as soft and kindhearted as John Watson was, he couldn’t bare that atmosphere; where they would sleep so far from each other and Sherlock not looking distressed.  
He said with a forced cold voice which was obvious that it wasn’t real  
'Alright you can cuddle but that's it.'  
Without a second to waste Sherlock hurried to hold John from behind.  
The minute the long soft fingers touched his sides and then slowly moved to his chest and held tightly he felt his heart skip a beat.  
For God’s sake it had been less than a day that they hadn’t touch each other, but the contact felt like they had connected some electric wires to his bare body.  
They had spent the previous night somewhere outside that psychopath’s house until the morning with Greg and some other police forces.  
He hadn’t had much chance to hold him close or kiss him as they were waiting in the cold weather and the next morning all he could do was to kiss him before they started running after the guy again and that was only a second when no one was looking.  
Maybe some people wouldn’t be as cautious as they were but they didn’t want to have a very public display of their romance to attract more attention than they already did.  
Sherlock was burying his nose in the back of John's neck and breathing almost heavily.  
John subconsciously closed his eyes and felt his whole body shiver for a second as he felt Sherlock's breath on his neck.  
He realized how his body was aching for his and just then he felt how cold all his bones had gotten. It couldn’t be just about how cold he was on the sofa, there had to be some psychological aspect to it as well.  
But as Sherlock's body went still John could feel he was tense against his body.  
A frown appeared on John brow, he knew Sherlock was upset but he couldn’t be that upset about a fight. He never took any of their arguments seriously let alone get tense about them.

Seconds passed in silence and then Sherlock said with a deep low voice like whispering

'I love you'

John had decided to not back down and he wasn't going to but that voice, the way he said it, and after everything they had gone through that day, he felt his stomach sink.  
He had gotten so used to suppressing his anger and sadness that he forgot how terrified and scared he was for sherlock’s life several hours ago.  
This man, the person who was holding him so tight and breathing into his neck was all he had and he had almost lost him that night.

He didn’t know when he decided to let his guard down but he felt emotions rushing to his heart and now he couldn’t resist Sherlock being so close to him and breathing into his neck and then saying I love you like that and not get weak a little.  
Sherlock was feeling sensitive for some reason and John felt there was no need to make the situation tenser than it was.  
Trying to sound as casual as he could he said  
'I love you too'  
John wasn’t sure but he felt like Sherlock’s breathing got heavier. Somehow more tense. Maybe he should’ve said it with more emotion; more like usual.

What was it with Sherlock? They had fought so much before. Yes this was a bit more serious and John did sleep outside for the first time but Sherlock was a strong confident bloke, he wouldn't get so tense because John was a bit stricter this time.

But he just couldn't take it. He had to do something even a small thing to make sure he is OK.

John slowly moved his hand to Sherlock's arm that was wrapped around him and rubbed it lightly.

Sherlock took a deep trembling breath and held John tighter Burying his forehead in John's shoulder.

John frowned in confusion. What was that deep breath? Was it relief?

It was all so strange. John couldn't believe this was the same guy who ordered him around most of the time and could be an absolute animal in bed sometimes.

John slowly turned his head back and looked at him. His head was still buried in the back of John’s neck, with a distinct force. Then he realized Sherlock’s fingers are digging in his flesh a bit. The hug felt too emotional to be registered as a form of expressing love or fondness; there was something unfamiliar somewhere in there.

The difference he could not recognize made him more confused. All he could see was his beautiful messy curls spreading all over his shoulder and then whispered very softly

‘Hey’

Sherlock lifted his head slowly.  
His face, same as before but somehow drained; his eyes heavy with something that resembled sadness and locked to somewhere unknown around John’s shoulder, refusing to meet his eyes.

John stared at him keeping that frown while trying to figure out the very unfamiliar expression on his face.  
He was still staring, waiting for Sherlock to look at him. This was so unlike him; Sherlock, stealing his gaze from him like this. But he didn’t look up for John to see his eyes and maybe find out what was with that look.

That way he was acting made what John had suspected seem more likely although he still wasn't sure.

He said softer, more lovingly with a hint of disbelief in his voice

‘Come here'

And then he lifted his left hand, putting his fingers gently on Sherlock’s head pulling his face closer.

Sherlock almost hurried to close the distance, staring at John’s lips.

John pulled him close into a very soft kiss. It was weird how the first touch of their lips and the brush of their tongue felt so sensational. A hum left Sherlock’s mouth at the touch.John felt his insides twisted with the desperate hum and the wonderful taste of Sherlock’s lips.  
It felt like he was kissing Sherlock for the first time after years of being away in war.All of a sudden he felt like that lost soldier again who wanted to come home but couldn’t find it; not until he found Sherlock, his one and true home.  
The kiss was intended to calm Sherlock down but as they went on he felt how it was soothing the pain he was feeling in his heart.

He was cupping the back of Sherlock's head now and gently stroking his hair with his fingers. And his right hand slowly went on his thigh, softly caressing it.

Sherlock was melting into the kiss and the touch and was letting out desperate relieved breaths into John's mouth, which came out as hums as John kissed him more and more tenderly.

His arms were still wrapped around John, holding him so tight as if he was worried he was gonna slip form his arms and his fingers were digging into his flesh, even hurting him a bit.John felt this reaction was alarming. Sherlock seemed too emotional and sensitive right now.

They finished the kiss with a smack.

John parted his lips and looked at Sherlock’s which looked so red and swollen and sweet.They were both breathing a bit heavily now.

John stared at him, studying his expression; still holding his head with that hand and softly stroking his ear with his thumb. The position he was in, was a bit uncomfortable nevertheless itfelt a lot hotter kissing Sherlock from that angle; they didn’t kiss in this position a lot mostly because they were all about eye contact and facing each other.  
John was still deciding what was wrong with Sherlock and he wasn’t quite aware that he could roll to his side to face Sherlock and get more comfortable.

He looked so stunned with the way Sherlock was acting as he was staring at him tensely.

Sherlock’s had slowly leaned in to the hand that was cupping his cheek but he still couldn’t bring himself to look John in the eye and John kept looking at Sherlock waiting for him to look up but he didn’t.  
He said in surprise  
‘Hey, what’s with you?’  
Sherlock didn’t answer and not react at all.  
Suddenly remembering Sherlock’s weird reactions after every make-up sex, he realized there has to be a something that Sherlock never says but it reflects on his strange way of looking at John at those times and his little touches and moves. Sherlock was a stubborn arrogant guy but every once in a while when they were having a fight Sherlock would throw in a comment like ‘should’ve made sure who I really was before getting in a relationship with me’ or ‘I never said I would be different person when we got together’  
His whole body was at wonderful ease now.  
Of course he knew some changes had to be done and everyone has to change some things about them when they get into a relationship but he never intended to change Sherlock. However he also never paid much attention to the reason behind the repetition of such comments. It was as if Sherlock was replying to his own criticisms about himself, thinking John must be thinking the same.  
It was getting clearer now.  
Sherlock got scared; So scared when he saw John has chosen to sleep on the sofa to not be near him. And more scared when he realized he's pretty serious about it.

Somehow John sleeping outside was a scary realization for Sherlock. Maybe because he felt that he could lose John as easily as that and it starts with leaving their bed.

And thinking back John realized the look he had seen on Sherlock's face, even as briefly and blurry as it was, should've shown him that he might be believing that this is probably it; that John was finally done with him because he believed no matter how hard he tried he would never be a good enough boyfriend for John.

After this realization John pulled him into another hard passionate kiss; then quickly shifted his body to face Sherlock. He held his head with both hands and kissed his cheek then temple, then forehead, then placed kisses on other side of his face not stopping.

And with a last kiss on his lips he tilted Sherlock's head up to look at him. Sherlock was breathing heavily now.

'Hey, look at me'

John said with serious eyes but his kind soft voice. Sherlock slowly moved his gaze to John's eyes as he lifted his hands to hold John’s wrists softly.

'I love you'

Sherlock let out a deep trembling breath at that.

John got a bit mad with that reaction. Maybe at Sherlock, maybe at himself or maybe both of them.

For not realizing who he was dealing with. World's most dangerous detective his ass, he was a little soft flower when it came to his emotions especially towards John.

The man would kneel down in front of John who was sitting on the sofa when he was bored or mad at people’s stupidity and put his head on John's stomach and yell ‘your hands’.

So John would smile and immediately put his hands on his head and run his fingers through his hair and caress and stroke until there was no trace of any boredom or anger in him and he would stay like that for a long while just enjoying that peace or he would wrap his arms around John’s stomach, stick his head under his shirt and put small kisses on it over and over and make him tickle and laugh and then when he was calm again, John would pull him up to the sofa and place him in his arms, both of their feet stretched out on the sofa and it would feel so right to just stay like that and hold him and touch him and place small kisses on his head for as long as he could.  
And John never neglected to remark how brilliant and clever he was. Because no matter how Sherlock knew the level of his IQ levels and his brilliance, it tend to get less important to him until John acknowledged again and again.  
After all he was the only one who thought that about Sherlock; or maybe the only one whose opinion mattered.

Yes that soft man couldn't handle John's rough method to make a better boyfriend out of him. He wasn't capable of tolerating that. And John should've known that by then.

John repeated again 'I love you completely and unconditionally Sherlock you know that right?'  
Sherlock kept looking at him with innocent eyes.

John chuckled in amazement but there was a hint of guilt in there too.

'I was just mad at you it doesn't mean that I would stop loving you even a bit'

Sherlock looked away and finally said

'You couldn't stand being next to me anymore. You slept on the sofa!'

'Sherlock that's what everyone does when they are...'

Then he stopped. He suddenly realized what he was saying.

They were not everyone and Sherlock was definitely nothing like anyone else.

John paused for a minute. He was thinking about what he just realized then said softly

'How could you believe I didn't love you anymore? Don't I show my love to you enough?'

Sherlock said a bit more serious  
'I believe it because I am everything you say I am. All the things that make you mad. I am all that and I can’t change that and I keep waiting for you to get tired and...'

He swallowed. Sherlock couldn't finish the sentence.

John felt sick. Was he going to say 'to leave me'?

John looked at him with wide eyes but then tears rolled up in them.

To think all this time that they had been together, every time they had a fight, every time John ignored him because he was mad and Sherlock had kept doing stupid sometimes annoying stuff to make him forget, all this time that John had kept nagging at him for being selfish, Sherlock had just felt more insecure as he has thought John was just gonna get tired someday and leave him.  
Of course John was right to be furious at him for all those times that he played with his life not caring how he would feel. There was that not knowing part, the part that you wait and wait and wait in horror for that moment when someone tells you that it’s over; that you have lost what was the reason of your life.But he realized Sherlockmust have gone through the same thing; Sherlock never knew if John would keep forgiving him or not.  
He wasn’t sure that there wouldn’t be a day when he comes back to their flat and see John has been waiting for him with his suitcases in the living room, ready to leave him; leaving him for good.  
Suddenly he hated himself for hurting him like that for so long.  
In that moment he just wanted to get Sherlock tight in his arms and squeeze him and kiss him so hard maybe he could somehow make him believe that he wasn't going anywhere even if Sherlock tried to make him leave.

Suddenly adrenaline spun through him. His pupils dilated as he felt his body started begging him to touch and lick and devour Sherlock’s.

He pulled Sherlock close in a blink of an eye and locked his lips on his as he climbed on top of him.

John was panting hard now and he could see how Sherlock was reciprocating every passionate kiss and every gentle touch hungrily.

He pulled the duvet over them, lowering himself on top of Sherlock, he darted his tongue deep in his throat and kept kissing him passionately. Then without breaking the kiss he moved his hand under the duvet to under Sherlock's pants, making him gasp as he grabbed his cock lightly and then rubbed his thumb very lightly on the head; it was more a form of affection and also a little warm up.  
Sherlock’s hand subconsciously jumped with the sensation, to hold John’s arm and pressed as he let a moan out.  
John was nuzzling Sherlock’s nose with his as he was moaning very beautifully against his face, then he went on with putting little open mouth kisses on the tip of his nose and then moved his kisses to his lips, stuck his tongue out just a bit and licked Sherlock’s lips and tongue very lustfully as a mirror to what his fingers were now starting to do on Sherlock’s butthole.  
Sherlock was writhing beautifully under him.  
Soon their clothes were out of the way and John went with the usual preparations. He was in a hurry to make Sherlock ready to get to the getting-in part as he knew how Sherlock was dying to get there. With the emotions and the atmosphere any little touch of Sherlock’s would feel ten times more pleasurable.  
The look in their eyes wasso intense and different now as John was working his fingers inside Sherlock relatively fast-paced. Sherlock looked like he was about to be raped and he was terrified by it and John’s look was very predatory, very lustful and serious like he was actually trying to rape Sherlock.  
And what he was doing with his mouth that was now trembling with lust on Sherlock’s, was so much more arousing than anything.  
Finally Sherlock was good to go and just then John realized he was being pulled down by Sherlock’s demanding hands under his armpits.  
Sherlock was breathing insanely heavily and it was making John desperate to satisfy him; making him believe.  
John hurried to guide himself inside him while kissing Sherlock’s breathless whispers calling his name  
‘John…John,’  
John was moaning with every desperate call on his name and seconds later he felt a hard pain in his lower lip and then he realized it was being bitten by Sherlock. However it was kind of lost in all the intense feelings of his cock slipping into Sherlock.  
And then all there was, were moans and whispers and flesh smacking flesh and mouths touching and kissing and sucking and biting until there were two loud deep moans and the peace and beautiful heavy breaths of deep satisfaction.  
John was lying boneless on top of Sherlock; his mouth was left open on Sherlock’s neck, without being able to move it.  
Sherlock’s slim legs still wrapped around him, his left one still held by John’s hand which had moved to cup his upper thigh-close to the ass cheek- and Sherlock’s hands now peacefully resting on the small of John’s back.  
Breathings were returned to normal when John found his lips aching to get back on Sherlock’s. Sherlock let out a hum as John started kissing him messily.  
And what Sherlock looked like was almost indescribable. The closest to what he was at that moment was a clean and clear morning sky after a whole night of non-stop rain. He just looked so peaceful and John’s kisses, touches and his being there on top of him, with him, apparently not out of love with him were melting him all over again now.  
Sherlock was considered the most dangerous man in the world, he had an international reputation, he knew how to manipulate people, he knew how to take advantage of them; he was a strong person and yet he was utterly under the power of this softer smaller man on top of him.  
He had handed him his heart, the one thing he had always been reminded he didn’t have. There was no wonder he would be the most fragile when it came to the one person who had claimed it.  
John lifted his head a bit;bruises were becoming more noticeable all over Sherlock’s neck and shoulder; and his teeth had left a trace of slowly-changing-into-purple color on his jaw line and even lips.  
He took a moment to look at them.  
God he loved it; marking him all over like that.  
To remind him you are mine and only mine and I’m never letting you go.

But John was still panting. He had made a statement, with his body, and he had to make sure Sherlockhad got it loud and clear.  
Before even catching his breath properly he put both hands on Sherlock’s head pushing back his damp hair firmly but tenderly, then repeated slowly, like caressing, he looked into his eyes with his; his gaze very serious  
'You got it, love? You got how I feel about you?'  
His voice broke in the end and Sherlock just stared at him for a minute. John getting tired of his childish behaviors had been scaring him for a long time, even before they got together, but now it was hard to not believe what John was trying to tell him; it was almost easy to believe that he’s not gonna lose him over his own idiocy; something he never thought he would admit to being.  
Sherlock’s long fingers cupped John’s cheeks and he slowly pulled him closer, then wrapped his arms around his neck to bury his nose in the crook of his neck and breathed very calmly.  
‘I am sorry’  
Sherlock murmured.  
Naturally John didn’t say anything. What could have been said at that moment really? It was a bit simpler now but still complicated.  
He had been hurt and had hurting Sherlock in return without knowing it.He was still worried for the future, when Sherlock does all that again but he knew there are some things and some people you can just never change and he couldn’t even imagine his life without Sherlock now.  
Sherlock heard sniffling and realized John is crying. He pushed his head up gently and cupped his cheeks again to look at his face.  
All he needed to say, all there was to say, all the logic and reasoning was useless now. Because a lot had been said and that was enough.  
Sherlock looked at him with remorseful eyes.He looked at him and thought he had done this to him. He wanted to say something.He needed to make his John feel better.  
But suddenly John said in a brittle voice  
‘I shouldn’t try to change you or the way you do your work, solve crimes; that’s your life, your decision, your right. But just one thing, one thing, whatever you do,’  
He paused while Sherlock’s eyes were getting wet now. He continued  
‘Just don’t end up with a gun your mouth, just don’t.’  
John couldn’t continue as he burstout crying.  
As a tear slipped from Sherlock’s eye, he kissed John’s cheek and pulled his head close, pushing himself upper to place John’s head against his neck, placing his chin on top of his head.  
‘John I swear to you,’  
Sherlock’s voice broke as he said  
‘I won’t hurt you like that again, just please don’t...’  
John looked into his eyes, knowing what he might have wanted to say again.  
John lifted his head and kissed his lips passionately. A promise like that was still very comforting anyways.  
He tightened his arms around Sherlock and just went on kissing him all over his face again and then moved to his neck and kissed and sucked and enjoyed every happy hum that escaped Sherlock’s mouth.  
Without breaking that hug, John wrapped his strong arms tight around him and shifted next to Sherlock, taking Sherlock with him.  
He rested his lips on his forehead placing a small soft kiss every now and then.  
Sherlock felt so soft and calm and sweet in his arms. And his body was at wonderful ease now.  
Sherlock said hesitantly  
'John, before you go to work this morning, please...'  
John understood. After the emotional night they had, Sherlock couldn't wake up to his bed without John in it like almost every morning that John had an early shift. He wanted to ask John to wake him before going.  
He actually wanted him to stay but was hesitant to ask.  
John cut him off lightly  
'I'll call in; I want to stay with you today, all day.'  
Sherlock smiled against his shoulder blade and John felt it. He didn't say anything as he felt the need to sleep is rushing back to him and he was sure Sherlock had to be much more tired now.  
He ran one hand in Sherlock's hair, grabbed a handful lightly, and then tilted his head back to see his face.  
There was a shade of exhaustion appearing on it. Of course there was. He hadn't slept all night.  
God he was a complicated soft genius detective and John understood that better now; that something as small as sleeping apart can drive his boyfriend crazy just like that.  
He stared into his eyes for a while, both of theirs red and tired but deeply peaceful and satisfied.  
Suddenly Sherlock said in his very sleepy hoarse voice  
‘John?’  
‘Yes love’  
‘Don’t wear your white t-shirt next time we have a fight’  
With a frown on his brow John wanted to ask why? Then he remembered. Oh, the staring-at-his t-shirt- thing earlier that he didn’t understand. He smiled a big one and said  
‘I won’t baby’  
He pressed his lips on Sherlock's so softly, almost like touching a flower with them. He used small perfect amount of tongue to part them and dart it in just a bit, brushing Sherlock’s tongue a little and kissing him more; sending him to sleep with those kisses.  
Sherlock hummed with desire against his lips and then their bodies were curved into each other again.  
Sherlock's eyes got heavier as John placed a kiss on his ear lobe and then whispered 'My baby' into his ear.  
Sherlock responded with a happy noise and slowly dosed off, leaving a very happy and still a bit emotional John Watson absolutely stunned as he watched this amazing creature snoring lightly in his arms and felt so lucky to be the only person in the world who had this perfect view to stun him before going to sleep.  
Doctor Watson teared up a bit staring at his boyfriend and slowly drifted off as the sky was fading into a romantic twilight.

**Author's Note:**

> Seriously though, feedbacks. :)


End file.
